Aftershocks. Nancy WarrenЧитать онлайн книгу.
way it had been before the aftershock.
When she finally reached the apartment she rented on the main floor of a house, she was still keyed up. Her eyes were gritty with fatigue, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while.
Besides, her stomach reminded her that she’d missed dinner. Unable to face cooking, she toasted whole-wheat bread, dished up a bowl of yogurt and sliced a banana into it. She poured a glass of apple cider to accompany “dinner.” While she ate, she flipped through the day’s mail. A couple of bills, a promotional flyer from a high-end fashion store and this month’s copy of Gourmet Magazine, which she subscribed to, even though she barely had time to cook for herself these days, never mind entertain.
Still, there was something about reading up on other people’s elegant dinner parties, checking out the international destinations featured, and imagining she was tasting all those wonderfully photographed dishes that made up in a small way for the fact that too many of her meals lately had been like this one.
She had dinner tidied away by 4:00 a.m. and was no more tired than she had been earlier. So she drew a hot bath, throwing a few handfuls of lavender milk crystals under the running faucet. While the tub was filling, she fetched a clean nightgown and her slippers.
When at last she eased herself into the warm, silky milk bath, magazine at hand, Briana breathed deeply of the lavender, in dire need of its soothing aromatherapy benefits.
She was in the middle of reading about a romantic springtime feast for two, when she caught herself changing places with the attractive couple in the magazine. She projected Patrick into the photo with her, fantasizing about him sitting across the cozy round table, toasting her with the California sauvignon blanc, eating the food she’d cooked and staring warmly into her eyes.
Smiling slightly to herself, she went back over their evening. Her spine was a little sore in places, and there was definitely some incipient whisker burn on the slope of one breast. She touched the spot. Next time, they’d have to find a bed.
Next time…
She got out of the bath with more haste than grace, slopping water on her magazine in her agitation. What the hell was she doing? Patrick was a good man. She was sure of it.
Drying off and pulling on her robe, she reminded herself that Uncle Cecil was a good man, too. But Patrick couldn’t have deliberately damaged her uncle’s career and her aunt’s peace of mind. There had to be another explanation.
Someone had done it, though, and Briana was going to find out who.
She washed her face, brushed her teeth and crawled into bed, knowing she’d be crawling out again in three hours. She only hoped she could manage to sleep some of the time.
Tomorrow was going to be a very busy day.
PATRICK STAYED at city hall long enough to make sure the fire department had put up emergency tape over the elevator doors.
“Thanks for getting us out of there,” Patrick had said to the crew as they left. Since he knew them all, he hadn’t bothered with the formality of handshakes, but slapped them on the back and joked around a little. Shannon had hung back and made sure she had a minute alone with her brother.
“You okay?” she’d asked.
“Sure. I don’t think I even got bruised when the elevator jolted.”
“Don’t play dumb with me, big bro. You know what I’m talking about. You and your model-gorgeous secretary looked like you were rolling out of bed when you got out of the elevator.”
“So we fell asleep while we were waiting. Get your nose out of my business.”
Whatever she’d guessed had gone on in that elevator, it was only a guess. He didn’t feel like talking about what had really happened, why and what he felt about it, because he wasn’t even sure himself.
Like most of his family, Shannon had urged him to get back out and start dating again. But he didn’t think sex in the elevator with his admin assistant was quite what she’d had in mind.
It wasn’t what he’d had in mind, either. But he had a feeling fate had taken a hand in his love life. And he was feeling pretty damned grateful to fate.
“I’m fine,” he said to his sister, and she knew him well enough to know that if he didn’t feel like saying more, he wouldn’t.
“You don’t look fine. You look like an eager boy with his first crush.”
“I can handle it.” He grinned ruefully. “At least I think I can. Speaking of nosy questions about love, how’s John?”
Shannon’s tired eyes brightened at the mention of John Forester, the man she’d fallen for last summer. He was still living in New York and they were making do with a long-distance relationship. She sighed. “He asked me to move in with him.”
“In New York?”
She nodded. “Don’t say anything to anyone else. I don’t know what I’m going to do yet.”
“Can’t he be a modern man and move out here where all your family and friends are?” Patrick couldn’t imagine not seeing Shannon for months at a time, which would happen if she moved clear across the country.
“He can’t leave his mother. She’s…sick. Oh, hell, the woman’s a hopeless alcoholic, and she couldn’t function without him.”
Patrick shoved his hands in his pockets and wished he knew the right thing to say. Probably there wasn’t a right thing. “What are you going to do?”
“Think about it. John’s coming up for a visit in a few weeks. I guess we’ll have to decide then.”
“I’d miss you like crazy.”
“Hey, I love you,” she said.
“Back at you.” He’d given her a thumbs-up and sent her on her way.
Before he left, he called the building superintendent at home. “Sorry to bother you, Bert. I’m not sure if you heard, but the aftershock messed up the elevator at city hall.”
Bert Wilson sounded gravel-voiced with sleep. “I didn’t know about the elevator. I was planning to get in early anyway. I’ll do a post-incident property inspection before any of the employees arrive for the day.”
“Thanks, Bert. Give me a call if you find anything, will you?”
“You bet.”
Patrick would have made do with the leather couch in his outer office for a bed if it weren’t for the kids. But there was no way he could let them wake up without him being there when he hadn’t been able to tuck them in the night before.
Patrick never pretended to himself or anyone else that he was managing to be both father and mother to his kids, because it wasn’t true. He hoped he was doing his best, but with the string of disasters Courage Bay had faced, he’d been home less than he’d liked, even if Janie were still alive. Without her there, he had to rely on his housekeeper and sitters more than he wanted to. He always tried to be home to put Dylan and Fiona to bed, and not to leave for work before they woke. This morning, he was determined to eat breakfast with his children.
As he drove home through the dark, now quiet streets, he was conscious that he’d moved another step away from his wife. For the first time since she’d died, he’d made love to another woman. For all the euphoria that had pumped through his blood when he’d been with Briana, in the back of his mind and heart had been the knowledge that he was breaking another tie to the woman with whom he’d hoped to grow old.
“Oh, Janie,” he said into the silence of his car. “I hope I haven’t messed things up.”
When he’d finally seen Briana in the light after they’d been rescued, he wasn’t sure what she was feeling, but it was clear it wasn’t all champagne and roses. Of course, she’d looked a little shy when they’d first made eye